


Kom Saam Met My

by Skyshadow3246, Wolfloner



Series: Finding Beauty in Negative Spaces [20]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Arc Reactor, Biting, Blood As Lube, Bottom Tony Stark, Bottom Wade Wilson, Chronic Pain, Dogs, Dom/sub, Feral Behavior, First Time Blow Jobs, Forced Orgasm, Hand Feeding, Hel and Fenrir sibling cuteness, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), M/M, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, So Many Dogs, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Top Loki (Marvel), Top Peter Parker, not as bad as it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-15 20:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16070378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyshadow3246/pseuds/Skyshadow3246, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner
Summary: The current arc of FBiNS needed an Intermission. Or, I needed to write an intermission. Take your pick.Chapter 1: FrostIron goodness.Chapter 2: SpideyPool goodness (if you're not here for this, this chapter is super skipable!)Chapter 3: Hel and Fenrir being adorable siblings on an adventure.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone (including Sky and I) needs to decompress after the current events of this plot.
> 
> If you're new here, these chapters are probably *pretty* stand-alone-ish. You shouldn't be too lost. And, I mean, smut is smut, right?
> 
> And a giant thank you to everyone who leaves comments and kudos on FBiNS! You guys are my heroes, and I love y'all forever and ever.
> 
> And for those unfamiliar with roman numerals "Mark L" = "Mark 50"

_ Kom saam met my / Come with me _

_ Ons sal die 'lede agterlaat / We’ll Leave the past behind _

_ Kom saam met my / Come with me _

_ En ons sal sien wat gebeur / And we’ll see what happens _

\--Seether,  _ Kom Saam Met My _

  
  


It was nice, Tony decided, to be back in his own home with the intention of  _ staying _ , even if only for a short period. Comforting even, especially after the day they had had. Waking up far too early, fighting off not one, but two apocalyptic roosters, meeting two of Loki’s children, and to top everything off, having to deal with Deadpool. He was pretty sure he could sleep for a week, given half a chance.

 

He collapsed on the couch, closed his eyes, and barely paying attention to the conversations around him. 

 

“Let us know as soon as you have a lead,” Peter said. 

 

He couldn’t hear specifically what Loki was saying, but it sounded like an agreement to keep them in the loop.

 

“Get some rest, Tony.” He opened his eyes and waved after Peter, as the young man half guided-half dragged Deadpool towards the elevator.

 

Tony leaned his head back against the couch, staring up at the white ceiling, and halfway listened as Fenrir poked around the livingroom and kitchen. “Help yourself to some food,” he called towards them. 

 

He couldn’t make out their hushed conversation, and it took him a moment before he registered that they weren’t even speaking English. “We’re alright. Thank you, though,” Hel eventually replied.

 

“Faðir,” Fenrir said, sounding much closer to the couch. “Do we have to stay… here?”

 

“Of course not,” Loki replied. “What did you have in mind?”

 

Tony glanced over and watched Fenrir shrug. He looked uncomfortable. “Outside, I guess?” He realized that Fenrir was pacing back and forth in front of the windows. “I just want to  _ move _ .”

 

Loki nodded, and Tony understood. He’d only been trapped in a cave for a handful of weeks, but Fenrir had been down there for  _ years _ . He could only imagine that being inside the Tower would be anathema to him.

 

“Just be careful,” Loki told him.

 

Hel winked, “I’ll keep an eye on him, don’t worry.”

 

Fenrir groaned at her comment.

 

“Don’t take that tone with me. I’ve got my  _ eye _ on you.”

 

“Stop that, you’re not funny,” Fenrir complained as they moved towards the door.

 

“Oh, hang on!” Tony said, dragging himself to his feet. “One, you guys might want to at least try to dress like humans.”

 

Fenrir sighed, “Fine. What do you humans dress like?”

 

“JARVIS?”

 

JARVIS projected a monitor onto the wall, showing examples of modern fashion to match their teenaged appearance. 

 

“Humans dress boring,” Fenrir complained, shifting his appearance so that he was wearing jeans and a plain black t-shirt. 

 

“You just like to complain,” Hel chided, now adorned in a dress covered in a loud floral print. 

 

Tony opened his mouth before decided that he had neither the time nor the energy to correct their fashion choices. Fenrir would blend in fine. Hel… well, Hel was going to stand out no matter what she wore. He grabbed a cell phone from one of the drawers against the wall. “Do either of you know what a phone is?”

 

“I do!” Hel held out her hand, turning it on with no issues. “The dead really miss their phones,” she mused. 

 

Tony decided he didn’t have the energy for  _ that _ either. “Ok, well, JARVIS is also integrated with the phone, so if you two run into any issues, or need to contact us, he can help you out.

 

“Thank you,” Hel said, wrapping Tony up in a quick hug. 

 

Without his suit between them, her body was like ice. He hoped she didn’t accidently bump into anyone. Which, he realized, was impossible, given that they were about to go wander around New York City. 

 

“Have a restful sleep, Faðir,” Hel said to Loki, as she hugged him as well.

 

“That’s the plan,” he assured her.

 

“Ok, ok, can we  _ go _ ?” Fenrir complained, standing next to the elevator door. 

 

Loki gave his children a bemused look as Hel chastised him. “Don’t eat anyone!” He called after them as the elevator door shut.

 

Tony sank back down on the couch. “Please tell me that was a joke, and that I don’t  _ actually _ need to be worried about Fenrir eating someone.”

 

Loki sat down next to him, his face even, “Who said anything about Fenrir.” At Tony’s distressed expression, Loki laughed, “Yes, it was a joke. Calm down.”

 

He groaned and settled back into the couch. “You sure you don’t want to go with them?” He asked after a moment.

 

Loki looked thoughtful, “I would like to spend more time with them, yes. But I can’t exactly go wander around the city looking like this,” he gestured to his blue skin. “Besides, it’s good for them to enjoy a bit of proper freedom.”

 

Tony shrugged, supposing that was true. “Can Hel keep Fenrir in check?”

 

The god laughed, “Yes. She’ll have no troubles keeping him in line.” 

 

“You know I bet I could turn a room into a freezer pretty easily,” Tony said.

 

Loki blinked at him, “Excuse me?”

 

“It’s too hot for you in here, right? And last time I asked you said that the temperatures you’d need to be comfortable would be really fucking cold. So, I’ve been thinking about what I’d need to do to turn a room into a freezer or something, so you could have somewhere comfortable when you’re like this.”

 

It took a moment, but eventually Loki laughed. “That’s very sweet of you. If you’re serious--”

 

“Of course I’m serious.”

 

“Then we can talk about it later. Tomorrow, maybe. After we get some sleep.”

 

It was several minutes later, in which time Tony was pretty sure he’d dozed off a bit, before Loki forced himself off of the couch and to his feet. A few seconds later Tony followed suit, only to realize Loki was heading towards his own room.

 

“Where’re you going?” He asked, before he realized it was a stupid question. If Loki  _ usually _ felt vulnerable when he was asleep, being trapped in a form he detested could only make that worse.

 

“Ah. I assumed you’d prefer if I wasn’t...”

 

_ Oh _ . No. Loki was just trying to be considerate. “I don’t. Prefer that, I mean. Come to bed. I’ll just curl up with 15 blankets if I need to.”

Loki huffed a small laugh as he followed him into their bedroom. There was a careful distance between them, which Tony hated, but it was far preferable to having to try to sleep alone.

 

* * *

 

 

The room was still dark when Tony woke up. He sat there confused for a moment, trying to discern what had pulled him from his sleep. He eventually realized that Loki had burrowed underneath the covers and draped a chilled arm over him. He could see that Loki’s skin was still blue, still covered with the strange markings, still  _ cold _ , but far from painful freezing temperatures that usually accompanied this form.

 

“You awake?” he whispered into the quiet.

 

“Mmhmm,” came Loki’s sleepy reply.

 

Tony traced his finger over the raised marks that adorned Loki’s hand. “You’re still a Smurf?” He asked.

 

Loki shifted and pressed himself more fully against Tony’s back. “Yeah.”

 

“Is this hurting you?”

 

The god wrapped his arm more tightly around Tony, nuzzling against the back of his neck. “No, it feels nice.”

 

Tony smiled at the easy affection. “I’m glad. And confused.”

 

“I don’t quite have enough energy to reset my glamour,” Loki explained, “but I can at least manage not to harm us.”

 

Tony’s brow furrowed as he considered Loki’s words. “Wait. Was this an option the entire time?”

 

“It honestly never occured to me, before,” Loki admitted, sounding embarrassed. “But right now, I just really needed to touch you.”

 

Tony grinned as he felt warmth spread out from his chest. Unable to press himself any closer to Loki, he brought his arm up so he could kiss it. 

 

He closed his eyes and tried to drift back off to sleep, but now that he was awake, his mind was buzzing, heedless of the lack of rest he’d had over the last few days.

 

“What was  Angrboða like?” He asked after a few minutes.

 

Loki let out a low whine before answering, “What do you want to know?”

 

“Anything, I guess.”

 

“She was a storm giant, and an accomplished warrior. Odin believed our courtship would be a boon for Asgard.” His tone was bitter as he spoke.

 

“Did you eventually love her?” Tony asked, “I mean, you had three kids with her, right?”

 

Loki snorted. “Have you loved everyone you’ve had sex with?”

 

“No, but I’m pretty sure I don’t have any children, either. Let alone three.”

 

“The sex was great,” Loki said, noncommittally, “and I loved our children. That was the extent of it.”

 

“Hel said Giants aren’t known for being nurturing?”

 

Loki rolled onto his back, dragging Tony with him, shifting him until Tony was settled between Loki’s legs, his head pillowed on the god’s chest. “We’re not,” he said as he wrapped his arms around him, and hooked a leg over Tony, effectively pinning him down.

 

Tony buried his face against Loki’s chest. He couldn’t keep himself from smiling at Loki acknowledging himself as a giant, but he could at least try to hide his reaction to it. “Yeah, I can see that,” he said as he pressed kisses everywhere he could reach. 

 

“What were Hel and Fenrir like as children?”

 

Loki sighed as if he’d hoping that the change in position might have distracted Tony from his questions. “They’re still children, by our standards.”

 

“You know damn well what I mean.”

 

He laughed, then. “Hel had a very dark sense of humor, I suppose. She recognized that people were frightened by her appearance, so she leaned into it. She’d make jokes about death and murder frequently. It didn’t do much to help her reputation.”

 

Tony hummed in understanding, “But it was a defense mechanism?”

 

“Yeah. When she wasn’t joking and making people uncomfortable, she was always very sensitive and kind. I’m glad her years in Niflheim haven’t dampended that.”

 

Loki’s thumb started making circles against the small of his back. “Fenrir, on the other hand, had a temper. Still does, I imagine. If there was a fight, he’d started it. In his mind violence is always the solution.” He was quiet for a few seconds. “We really did try to curb that, and encourage other problem solving techniques, but none of it ever seemed to stick.”

 

“Is that why he was tied down like that?” Tony asked carefully.

 

Loki tensed under him. “No,” he said softly.

 

Tony swallowed, realizing he’d hit on a sensitive topic. “Sorry. You don’t have to talk about it.”

 

“They were locked away for saving me,” Loki continued as if Tony hadn’t spoken. “Odin didn’t believe that the death of my youngest children was punishment enough for “ _ orchestrating Baldr’s death _ ”. He…” Loki paused then, and Tony waited patiently. He wasn’t going to push, regardless of how curious he was now. “He had me tied up in a cave,” he whispered. “Tortured me for...I don’t know how long. Months? Years? Time lost all meaning, there.

 

“Fenrir and  Jǫrmungandr freed me. In about as violent a manner as possible, if I’m being honest. After that, Odin locked them all away. He wanted to be sure they couldn’t cooperate any further.”

 

“He locked Hel away, too, even though she didn’t help to free you?”

 

Loki’s leg tightened around him. “I’m not so sure she didn’t. Either way, Odin wanted to cover his bases. Punish them, punish me, two birds with one stone and all that.”

 

Tony wondered if he would ever hear a story that  _ didn’t _ make him hate Odin even more. He really doubted it. “Is that why Thor was so upset about us planning to get help from Fenrir? Is he afraid of him?”

 

“If he’s not, he should be,” he replied darkly. “But helping us free him would have done much to engender some level of trust or forgiveness.” He let out a long breath, seeming to try to calm himself. “Still, I’ll admit that I was surprised by Thor’s reaction. I thought he would have been more willing to do whatever was needed to save his nephew, but I guess I was wrong.” The giant let out a growl that originated from his chest, “Can’t have the fucking King of Asgard consorting with Giants, after all.” 

 

Tony let out a soft hiss as Loki’s nails absently dug into his side. They were thick and sharp, and honestly more like claws than anything else, and it  _ hurt _ .

 

“Sorry,” Loki said quickly, immediately easing up on the pressure.

 

He shook his head, “No, it’s ok. Just surprised me a bit.” It was his turn for a long steadying breath. “You’re not the only one pissed off at Thor.”

 

“Because he’s a complete waste of organic tissue, or…?”

 

Tony snorted. “I mean, yeah, that’s part of it. But also because he keeps acting like all of this shit doesn’t concern me? What is so  _ hard _ about the idea that I’m involved now, and I’m not fucking going anywhere.” 

 

Loki silenced his complaints by dragging his claws along Tony’s spine with careful intent. “He doesn’t try to understand,” Loki told him.

 

His grumbling faded as Loki’s claws continued along his ribs, tracing over the bones he could feel across his back. The sharp systematic movements were soothing, and Tony let himself relax into it.

 

After a while the light in the room shifted, as the sun began to make itself known. It wasn’t a sunrise, not yet, but shades of gray started breaking through the darkness.

 

“Can I ask…” Tony started softly.

 

“Hrm?”

 

Tony busied himself tracing over the markings along Loki’s chest. “Breaking the curse on Gullinkambi took so much of your energy… what’s going to happen when you try to break its hold on Váli?”

 

The silence that followed was the sort that Tony had learned to mean that Loki was  _ worried _ about something. It made sense that he’d been having the same reservations. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Between helping Peter and Gullinkambi, I feel like I have a better idea of how the curse works.”

 

He nodded, wiggling free enough that he could continue tracing the paths of the markings as they trailed down Loki’s abdomen and stomach. 

 

“Are you enjoying yourself, Stark?” 

 

“Very much so,” he purred before chasing his fingers with his tongue, relishing the shivers that earned him.

 

“I have another question,” Tony said, glancing up.

 

“You always have questions.”

 

“So, when Fenrir said that we smell like each other?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

Loki fixed him an amused look, “It means what it sounds like. There’s nothing special to it. Fenrir just has an excellent sense of smell.”

 

“Oh. And what’d you tell him?”

 

Something in Loki’s expression felt feral as he said, “I told him that you were my mate.”

 

Tony blinked, “Mate, huh?” He honestly wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It certainly wasn’t a term he’d have ever thought to use, but he also kind of liked the sound of it. It felt foreign, but nice. Right. He crawled up as well as he could until he could reach Loki’s face, pressing their lips together in a gentle kiss.

 

The gentleness lasted for less than a minute before Loki tugged sharply as his hair, making him gasp. “So, what--” he ignored Loki’s irritated sound, “--does that actually mean? Being your  _ mate _ ?”

 

Rather than reply Loki dragged his claws down along Tony’s side, hard enough to draw out a pitiful whine because it actually  _ hurt _ . In retaliation Tony set to licking and biting where Loki’s neck joined his shoulder, determined to leave as dark of a bruise as he could, however short lived it might be. 

 

After one particularly cruel bite, Loki flipped them over and let out an inhuman growl the likes of which Tony had never heard before that made his lizard brain scream:  _ Danger! Predator! _

 

Tony whimpered at the feeling of Loki’s mouth at his throat. He was quick to move his head out of the way but the fear and arousal warring through his head was dizzying, and kept him from just  _ enjoying _ the behavior of his suddenly aggressive alien  _ mate _ . It didn’t help that he couldn’t quite push down the images of Fenrir and Hel ripping through the bodies of the dead the day before.

 

“Tony?” Loki’s voice was soft and it helped to break through the images playing on repeat in his mind.

 

He couldn’t quite manage words, but he let out an acknowledging grunt.

 

“Color?”

 

He wasn’t even sure when he’d clenched his eyes shut, but Tony forced himself to open them. “Uh,” he said after a moment, trying to take stock. He was shaking, and irrationally frightened, yet was somehow still so hard it was nearly painful. “Like… chartreuse?” He offered.

 

“Chartreuse.” Loki echoed, pulling back. 

 

Tony quickly wrapped his arms around Loki’s neck. He didn't want him to move. “Just give me a second.” Words were coming easier. This was  _ Loki _ . Who loved him. Who noticed he was freaking out and stopped without the slightest hint of frustration or hesitation. Who was worried about him. 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“No.” Then, at Loki's look, he amended, “Not right now.” 

 

Loki nodded, accepting that. “I don't want to hurt you.”

 

Tony rolled his eyes. “One: yes you do.” He saw Loki start to open his mouth, probably to disagree, so he canted his hips, pressing their dicks together. “Two: green.  _ I _ want you to. Panic over, I'm good.”

 

“I don't want to scare you again,” Loki's voice was almost fragile.

 

Tony tugged insistently from around his neck until Loki lowered himself enough to meet him for a kiss. “My instincts still remember what being prey was like,” he explained. “Not that I have any issues with being fucked by such a gorgeous apex predator.”

 

Bright red eyes looked bewildered. “You want me to fuck you like this?”

 

“I've wanted you to fuck me like this since I found out  _ this _ was a thing.” 

 

One hand came up so that Loki could flick at a nipple piercing with his thumbnail. “I can think of at least two logistical issues with that request.”

 

“Fuck your logistical issues.”

 

Loki arched an eyebrow at him before drumming four long, thick,  _ sharp _ claws pointedly against his chest. 

 

“That's hardly an issue. I'm perfectly capable of prepping myself.” Tony wiggled his non-claw-tipped fingers.

 

“That still leaves one more,” Loki said, rolling his hips down and sliding his cock along Tony's leg. 

 

He fixed Loki with a confused look before pressing up on his chest enough so that he could look down between them. Two questions immediately surfaced. “Why are you hung like a--no, nevermind.” He laid his head back down, pressing his fingers against his eyes. “Why do you make your dick smaller when you shapeshift?”

 

Loki actually looked mildly offended when he looked back up at him. “If you'll remember, I spent over two millennia unaware of what my,” he paused, floundering for the word he wanted. “I didn't know I was.”

 

Tony nodded. “Right. Sorry.” He reached up to caress Loki's cheek, who leaned into the touch. “Also I definitely want your frighteningly massive blue cock inside me.”

 

Loki sighed at him. He wasn't sure why Loki would have expected anything different, though. Sure, the prospect was daunting, but that had never stopped him before. “When you said I wanted to hurt you--” Loki started but didn't try to stop Tony from rolling away from under him to retrieve the bottle of lube.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know this isn't what you had in mind,” Tony said reassuringly, coating his fingers in the slick oil. He locked onto Loki's shining red eyes as he slid two fingers into himself. And ok, maybe not his best plan. The angle wasn't great, and he wasn't exactly in the habit of fingering himself. “So,” he said as he started thrusting the two fingers against uncertain muscles, “what  _ would  _ you like to do to me?”

 

Loki watched with rapt attention as Tony spread his legs further, encouraging a third finger into his body. He shuddered at the feeling, had definitely gone too quickly. 

 

“I want,” Loki finally spoke as he stilled, pressing his fingers as deeply as he could. 

 

But Loki was hesitating, and that was unacceptable. “Tell me,” he pleaded, “I want to hear it.”

 

A feral grin crossed Loki's face as he crawled towards Tony, shoving him down on his back none too gently. 

 

_ Predator _ , Tony's mind provided, unbidden.

 

“I want to hold you down,” Loki growled, pulling Tony's hands away from his ass and holding his wrists above his head. 

 

Tony swallowed and nodded, debating how much he was going to regret not asking for more time to prep himself.

 

Loki's mouth was at his throat again, “I want to sink my teeth into you. Don't want to taste or smell anything but  _ you _ .” Tony's dick twitched, and he wasn't sure if it was Loki’s words, or hungry sound of his voice that he enjoyed so much. 

 

“Want that too,” he gasped, feeling the head of Loki's cock press against his entrance. “Fuck,” he whimpered, “go slow.”

 

He got a hum for his request, as Loki started shifting his hips. Not pressing in just yet, just moving gently against him. “I want to fill you with my seed,” he continued between kissing and sucking at Tony's throat. “Want to fuck you until I'm the only thing you can think about.” 

 

Tony's moan was cut off as Loki's movement changed. Instead of rocking against him, there was just a firm steady pressure against his hole. 

 

He cried out as as the head of Loki’s cock popped past the ring of unyielding muscle. He jerked and clenched down, his body screaming against the intrusion. Loki growled against him as his hips stilled, his free hand moving to hold onto Tony’s hip, stopping his thrashing. 

 

“Be still,  _ Hýrr _ ,” Loki ordered, and his teeth against Tony's throat felt like a threat.

 

He whined and whimpered and couldn't quite get the full body shaking to subside. This didn't just burn--it  _ hurt _ . The cold of Loki's skin kept his touch from being as comforting as it usually would be. The sheer  _ otherness _ of the situation kept him from being about to convince his body to relax.

 

“Green,” he squeaked out. He  _ needed _ Loki to know that, despite everything, he wanted this. “Move.” Staying still wasn't helping, it was only ratcheting up his anxiety. 

 

He could feel every fucking millimeter of Loki's cock as it pushed into him, forcing him open,  _ claiming _ him. He wasn't sure how far Loki made it before tears welled up in the corner of his eyes, and his gasps turned wet as he struggled to fill his lungs. 

 

Loki was shaking with the effort of going so slowly, tiny minute thrusts nudging his way deeper and deeper. 

 

“Almost,” Loki groaned. 

 

Tony's fingers scrambled at nothing, clawed at the air, and his tears were falling freely. He was pretty sure the only thing he'd managed to say was a quiet chanting of, “Fuck, fuck, fuck” for several long minutes. 

 

“Mine,” the giant grumbled once he was fully seated. “All mine,” his claws dug into Tony's leg, not quite hard enough to break the skin, but it was probably a close thing.

 

Tony nodded as well as he could, “Yeah,” he panted, “yours.”

 

“I still want to bite you.”

 

Tony couldn't help the slightly hysterical laugh that escaped him at the earnestness of Loki's statement. It shook his body and it hurt, but fuck.  “Please,” he said after his laughter subsided. “Do whatever you want.”

 

“Oh, I wouldn't offer that,” Loki warned, pressing one more kiss to his neck before biting down so hard that Tony jerked again. The roughness of the bite a dizzying counterpoint to the otherwise tender affection Loki had been laving against the spot.

 

Loki's hips jerked, and Tony wailed, clenching his eyes shut against the dual pains that threatened to overwhelm him. 

 

Loki was kissing him again, and Tony wasn't sure how to feel about the taste of his own blood so overpoweringly present on Loki's lips. The hand that had been digging into his leg released him, and came to rest against his neck for a moment. 

 

“I'm going to move,” Loki told him, and Tony whimpered at the slow drag of Loki's cock pulling almost all the way out. Before he pushed back in, the hand on his throat drifted down to wrap around his dick. 

 

Loki was pumping his no longer interested dick in time with his slow thrusts, and it was a confused moment before Tony realized that Loki was using his blood as lube. He was never going to tell Loki to, “Do whatever he wanted” ever again.

 

He writhed as the stimulation forced him to hardness, Loki's thrusts becoming increasingly less gentle as he chased his release. The giant snarled as he slammed their bodies together.

 

Even Loki's cum was cold, and it sent a chill through his core as it spilled inside him. He swore when Loki released his wrists, the returning circulation feeling like electric shocks to his oversensitive nerves.

 

“I adore you,” Loki murmured against his mouth before he started shifting downwards. 

 

Tony couldn't help but grimace as Loki's cock slipped out of him. “Love you too,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He glanced down to watch Loki move, but dropped his head back at his fingers started gently exploring his abused ass. “That hurts,” he complained.

 

“I know,” Loki said soothingly. Then one hand was pressing against his abdomen as two fingers snaked their way inside him.

 

“Loki, no, please,” he begged.

 

Loki shushed him, “I've got you,” he promised suddenly his mouth was on Tony's dick, and the only thing that kept Tony from thrashing--either into his mouth, or away from him--was Loki's hand holding him down. “Be still, I’d hate to tear anything.” 

 

Tony let out a strangled noise as he realized that two of Loki’s claws were inside him, stroking over his prostate. Between the fingers pressing inside him, and the feeling of Loki's mouth and tongue working over his cock, it wasn't long before Tony was screaming as Loki forced his orgasm from him.

 

As soon as Loki was back up next to him Tony turned and curled up against him, shaking and sobbing into his chest. Loki's arms were wrapped around him, and he could feel soft kisses being peppered against the top of his head. 

 

“Feel better?” Loki asked after Tony's crying finally subsided.

 

“Everything hurts and you're a--”  _ Monster _ , Tony nearly said. “An asshole,” he finished instead.

 

Loki tensed. “I'm sorry,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I can't seem to stop myself from harming you.”

 

Tony pulled his head back to try to meet Loki's gaze, but the god was avoiding his eyes. “What? Fuck, no. Loki, I'm just being difficult,” he explained quickly. “I  _ wanted _ everything we just did,” he insisted. “Fuck, I'd like to do it again, sometime.” 

 

Red eyes finally met his, but Loki looked unconvinced. 

 

When Loki remained silent Tony finally said, “Talk to me, Silent Bob. I can't read your mind.”

 

Loki squinted at the reference but didn't question it. “I know you enjoy it when I hurt you.”

 

“Good. I'm glad we're on the same page, there.”

 

Loki nodded. “But I worry. That one day I'll go too far,” he admitted.

 

Tony frowned. “Loki, you just shoved your fucking horse-cock inside me, and jerked me off with my own blood. I… I'm struggling to think of anything you could want to do that would be  _ too far _ .” Tony could barely believe that a series of events that allowed him to say those words with any sincerity actually existed, but here he was. 

 

A ghost a smile crossed Loki's features, and Tony felt himself relax. “I love you. And, I'm your mate, right?” The term still felt strange, but it wasn't unappealing. “You're not going to scare me away.”

 

Loki let out a soft hum and pulled Tony back to his chest. “I needed this,” he admitted.

 

“The sex or the talk?”

 

“The release,” he specified. “The last few days have been… hard.”

 

Tony freed one of his arms from between them so he could wrap it over Loki's side. “Yeah. Same.” He flicked his tongue out against Loki's nipple, earning a startled noise. He chuckled and did it again.

 

“Don't start what you can't finish, Stark.”

 

Tony wanted to shoot him his best cheeky grin, but when the movement sent a shock of pain up his spine he tucked his face back against Loki's chest. “Yessir,” he said, resigning himself to more sleep.

 

* * *

 

It was sometime after noon when Tony woke again. He was warm and comfortable and if weren’t for the fact that he desperately needed to pee he’d have refused to ever move from the bed.

 

Nature was stupid, he decided, as he moved to get up. He definitely appreciated the fact that Loki had apparently made use of his magic to remove the blood and cum from their bed. And given that Loki was nowhere to be seen, Tony only hoped that meant he’d actually gotten a decent amount of rest.

 

He’d been too overzealous--which is to say, not overzealous at all--as he’d rolled out of bed, and sharp pain lanced through his body, letting him know that Loki hadn’t also taken the time to heal him. He grumbled as he limped to the restroom to piss and shower.

 

Tony wasn’t exactly surprised by the sight of blood as he washed himself, but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. Because that wasn't the sort of thing he wanted to have to spend time keeping an eye on. 

 

Loki, his glamour back intact, greeting him with a mug of coffee in hand once he left the bedroom. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Like you about fucked me into next week,” Tony grinned and tried to stop from wincing as he sat down. 

 

Loki slid a plate over to him, but didn’t sit down himself. Instead he all but hovered, concern etched into his features.

 

“I’m fine,” Tony insisted. “Nothing surprising hurts. It was fun, I regret nothing, now sit down and eat.”

 

It was another moment before Loki did as he was asked.

 

Tony was halfway through his breakfast before an idea popped, fully formed, into his head. “Holy shit, I’m an idiot,” he said. He was up and across the room before he had the time to register the pain his swift movement caused, “I’ll be in the lab!” He called back, not waiting for Loki’s reply.

 

* * *

 

 

As per usual, Tony had been making things  _ far _ more difficult than he needed to. He couldn’t begin to guess what had triggered his paradigm shift, but he wasn’t going to complain. He worked furiously, putting every bit of tech in his lab through its paces. 

By the end of the day, his new suit--Mark L--was ready. Mostly. The suit itself was ready, but there was one other factor that needed to be taken into account.

 

He glanced over at the upgraded Arc Reactor that sat unassumingly on the table. 

 

Sure, he had replaced his Arc Reactor on his own a handful of times before. It wasn’t terribly pleasant, but it was a necessary evil. Except usually that didn’t involve entirely unplugging it from the electromagnet that kept the shrapnel out of his heart. He sat heavily in his swivel chair and glared at the Reactor. The suit would, technically,  _ work  _ without the upgrade, but it would only be able to manage maybe 10% of its full functionality. 

 

Of course, that 10% functionality was still bafflingly more powerful than the Mark XLIX. But that wasn’t good enough. If he was going to do this, it would be all the way, or not at all.

 

Which left him with two options, and neither of them were great. He could either attempt the switch by himself, with only JARVIS for assistance--which would just mean calling 911, if he were being honest--or ask for help. 

 

Who to ask?

 

Bruce was, so far as Tony knew, still in Norway.

 

Pepper? Maybe. But that would be awkward, and he knew she hated everything to do with the Arc Reactor (aside from it keeping him alive). 

 

But anyone else meant he’d have to  _ explain _ how the damned thing worked. He’d have to give them the tools to know exactly how to most easily  _ end his life _ . Fear reared its ugly head and clutched at his throat. He pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes as he considered his options. 

 

The idea of asking Loki pressed on his mind as the most obvious solution. He trusted Loki, didn’t he? But he’d also trusted Obie, and that had blown up in his face. He growled at himself. Comparing Loki and Stane felt awful. Loki would  _ never _ betray his trust like that, he decided.

 

It didn’t make the prospect of teaching someone a new and creative way to kill him any less terrifying, though. “Hey, JARVIS,” he said after steeling himself, “could you let Loki know I could use a hand down here?”

 

“Of course, Sir.”

 

“You called?” Loki asked, his voice light as he materialized in the room. “What’s wrong?” He asked as soon as he caught Tony’s anxious expression.

 

“I need to ask for your help,” Tony said slowly. “And, um, I really need you to say yes.”

 

Loki nodded without even giving Tony the chance to explain his request. “Whatever it is, of course I’ll help.”

 

“Great,” he said and attempted to smile as he waved Loki over. He didn’t think he quite managed it. “So, this is my new Arc Reactor.”

 

Loki didn’t move any closer to it, but he did tilt his head a bit, examining it. “It’s lovely.”

 

Tony swallowed, “Thanks. I need your help, uh… putting it in.” Loki fixed him with a confused look as he waited for Tony to explain. “Alright, I’m going to just… super oversimplify this, ok?” There was no other way Tony was going to be able to get through teaching Loki how it worked. He didn’t  _ like _ people knowing how it worked.

 

Loki nodded. “Alright.”

 

“So, the reactor itself,” he tapped the face of it. “Is basically a really powerful battery.” He picked it up to show Loki the reverse side. “Right here,” he pointed at a rectangular box affixed to the Reactor. “This is like a… a battery pack. In case the Reactor itself gets damaged, this piece can power the magnet in my chest for a while.” Loki nodded again, and Tony appreciated his lack of questions. He had to remind himself that teaching Loki enough about the Reactor to be dangerous to anyone but him would take  _ years _ . 

 

“The box disconnects from the Reactor, like so,” he said, demonstrating how the two pieces snapped together. “It takes a bit of force, but it’s  _ supposed _ to come apart, so it’ll be fine.” He pushed the backup back into place. “Then, there’s this cable,” he fed the cable through his hand from where it left the backup until it ended in a plug, “and that feeds into the port in the magnet, powering it. D’you follow?”

 

“I do.” 

 

“Good. Great. The… the magnet is like… a couple of millimeters away from my heart. So… so you don’t need to really use any pressure to plug it in.”

 

Loki looked alarmed by that news. “It’s that close to your heart?” He asked.

 

Tony nodded, “Yeah,” he breathed out.

 

Loki reached out hesitantly, “May I?” He asked. It was only after Tony nodded again that he picked up the Arc Reactor, carefully examining the parts that Tony had described to him. “I have a some questions, if that’s alright?”

 

Tony tensed. Of course Loki would have questions, that was only fair of him to expect. “That’s fine. Go ahead.”

 

“I’m not an expert at human anatomy,” Loki started, “but should your heart be set so far back?”

 

Tony shrugged, “It’s probably not ideal,” he admitted. “But I didn’t exactly have access to the best equipment when I built the first one. It’s actually…, well, hang on. JARVIS, can you pull up the scans?”

 

Several blue monitors flared to life, showing Tony’s chest cavity at various angles, and focusing on different things. “My heart’s actually just shoved a bit more to the left than usual, rather than being forced so far back,” anxiety buzzed in the back of his mind as he expanded the scan to show Loki.

 

Loki stepped closer, looking over the images that JARVIS provided. “Your sternum?”

 

“Some of it’s still there,” he gestured to the white of the bone. “Some of my ribs just kind of...float there, though.” Loki looked at him in equal parts mistified and horrified at the news. “It’s ok,” Tony assured him, “my muscles have picked up the slack.”

 

“They’ve…” Loki started as Tony pulled forward another image, this one actually showing him moving and breathing. “What about your lungs?” 

 

“What about them?” Loki gave him an exasperated look, “They’re still there,” he pointed them out.” But he knew what Loki was actually asking. “They can manage about 80% capacity,” he admitted. “Which is, you know, plenty, most of the time.” He eyed the scans of his organs, “And before you ask, yeah, my esophagus is a bit squished, too.”

 

The god was quiet for several minutes, continuing to look over the images in front of them until Tony started to feel self-conscious, and regret showing him for an entirely new reason. “Does it hurt?” He finally asked.

 

Tony blinked at the question. “Not really?” He shrugged. “Or, I just got used to it after a while, I guess.”

 

In the next instant Loki had strode over to him, cupped his face in his hands, and was giving him the sweetest, most tender kiss he could remember them ever sharing. He smiled into it, and felt himself relax for the first time since he’d realized he’d need help for this. “I’m so sorry,” Loki whispered after he pulled away.

 

“For what?” 

 

“For not leaving your Reactor alone even though you asked me to. For pressing on it so often.”

 

Tony leaned up to resume their kiss. “It’s not like I ever told you,” he pointed out. “Besides, sometimes I kind of like it.” He winked before slipping away from Loki and moving to the center of the lab.

 

“Alright, JARVIS, let’s do another scan before we start fucking with things that keep my heart in one piece.”

 

He heard JARVIS let out a sigh as the scan began. Once it was complete and the image joined the other projections, JARVIS spoke, “Alright, Sir, everything appears as expected.”

 

“Awesome.” Tony said, clapping his hands together. “So, last thing, and then I’m gonna walk you through this, alright?”

 

“Alright,” and if Loki was apprehensive about this, he was doing a damned good job at hiding it. For which Tony was grateful, truth be told. Both of them being nervous wouldn’t help anything. “This,” he said, passing over something that looked not unlike an air hockey striker. “Is what’s going to let you get the Reactor out.”

 

Loki looked over it, “How does it work?”

 

Tony sank back into his chair. “When you press the flat side against the Reactor, two thing’ll happen. One:  little pegs will pop out of there. Two: mirroring holes will appear in the Reactor, and they’ll just slot together. Then you’ll turn that, and  _ very slowly _ pull the Reactor out of its housing.” He swallowed. “There’ll be some resistance, of course, but again, it’s designed to move, so it’ll be fine.” 

 

He paused, debating whether the last bit of information was necessary. He decided it was. “Also, as a heads up, when you unplug it from the magnet, there’s a very slight chance I might go into cardiac arrest.”

 

_ Now _ Loki looked apprehensive. “What should I do if that happens?”

 

“Plug me back in. JARVIS will have emergency services that know the situation on standby, no worries.”

 

“No worries?” Loki echoed. “You’re being awfully cavalier about this.”

 

“Honestly, I’m fucking terrified,” Tony admitted. “But I trust you, and this needs to happen for the suit to work, so… it is what it is.” Before he could second-guess himself, Tony peeled off his t-shirt and let it fall to the floor. “Ready when you are.”

 

Loki managed to look confident as he pressed the key against his arc reactor. There was whirring and the sound of clicks as the device slotted itself into place. “Is this going to hurt you?” Loki asked softly.

 

“Hell of a time to ask,” Tony smirked up at him. “Mostly it will just be uncomfortable. Minimal pain involved. Turn it counter-clockwise,” he prompted. He grit his teeth as the Reactor moved. It wasn’t painful, in fact it barely felt like anything, but that didn’t stop the anxiety from trying to seize hold of him. 

 

Loki paused when the Reactor turned as far as it could. “Ok, pull it out--slowly.” Tony clenched his eyes closed. “You’re gonna unhook the Reactor from the power bank first.” He shuddered at the tugging sensation, his fingernails digging into his legs through his jeans, and he was confident he was going to leave bruises. After a moment he heard Loki set the “old” Reactor down on the workbench.

 

He let out a soft whine as he tried to mentally prepare for the last part. “Ok. Don’t unplug it until you’ve got the new one ready. It needs to be unplugged for the shortest amount of time possible.”

 

“I know,” Loki assured him. “Should I warn you before--”

 

“Nope. I’d really rather you didn’t.”

 

He wasn’t sure if he’d made a mistake or not when he felt the battery pack disconnect from the magnet in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he could  _ actually _ feel the shrapnel start traveling through his body or not. And he wasn’t sure how long it took before the new Reactor was plugged into his body.

 

“Oh, thank fuck,” he whispered as Loki seated the new Arc Reactor into the housing. 

 

“Are you alright?” Loki asked, cupping his cheek.

 

Tony opened his eyes. “Will be,” he said. “Just give me a few minutes and like… a bourbon or something.”

 

Loki gave him a reproachful look. “Should you be drinking after something like that?”

 

“I’m fine now. Physically, at least. I’m just a bit on-edge emotionally.”

 

“Food first,” Loki said as he reached out and pulled Tony to his feet. “Food and rest and a  _ small _ drink.”

 

Tony leaned heavily against Loki’s side as they headed for the elevator. “Thank you.”

 

“For what?”

 

He hummed, “Everything.”

 

Loki chuckled softly, and for once Tony couldn’t quite complain as he was easily lifted and carried back to their living room, and carefully deposited on the couch. 

 

“I’ll be right back,” Loki said before walking out of sight. A few minutes later he returned with a blanket, a bottle of water, a steaming mug of  _ something _ that smelled like honey, and bite-sized pieces of fruit. He sat down and encouraged Tony to lean against him before draping the blanket over them.

 

“You don’t need to baby me,” Tony complained as Loki held a piece of apple expectantly in front of his lips.

 

“I’m not babying you,” Loki corrected, “I’m just taking care of you.”

 

Tony frowned, “And I can feed myself.”

 

“Tony,” Loki said quietly, “please let me do this for you.”

 

Loki sounded so sincere that he couldn’t stand to refuse him, opening his mouth obediently and letting Loki feed him small bites of fruit. 

 

Once he had finished the food and the bottle of water, Loki handed him the still-steaming mug. He took a careful sip and hummed as the flavors of honey and cloves and cinnamon flooded his body with warmth. He relaxed and let himself go limp against the god, comforted by how reminiscent the drink was of Loki’s scent. “It’s like drinking you,” he said, before he could be embarrassed by the comment.

 

Loki just chuckled, his arms circling around him, and his hands coming to rest on his stomach. “In a good way?”

 

Tony was happy to blame the flush of his cheeks on the hot drink, “Yes.”

 

They stayed curled up like that while Tony slowly sipped at the Hot Toddy that Loki had made him. He might have even started to drift off it it weren’t for the fact that Loki’s fingers had started tapping a staccato below his chest.

 

It took him a moment to figure out why. “Do you want to look at it?” He asked.

 

“No,” Loki replied, far too quickly.

 

Tony pulled the blanket down and exposed the new Arc Reactor, “You can, if you want.”

 

Loki hesitated before shifting Tony to his side so he could actually look at the Reactor as his hand drifted up and lightly traced over the designs Tony had welded onto the front of it. They didn’t serve any purpose, but if he had to have a giant battery in his chest, it was going to look nice, damn it.

 

“You did a wonderful job,” Loki said.

 

“I hope so, I’ve made enough of these.” 

 

Tony couldn’t help but tense when one fingertip touched the scar tissue around the Reactor’s housing. Loki pulled back immediately, “Sorry.”

 

He shook his head and looked off to the side. “No. It’s ok. You can touch.” He closed his eyes as gentle fingers traced the circular scar on his chest. He shuddered at the touch--no one touched it. He even did his best to avoid touching the scars, unless he had to. It wasn’t like it had much sensation, there was nothing but a sense of pressure anymore. 

 

“You’re beautiful,” Loki whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

 

Tony huffed at the compliment, but slowly felt himself relaxing. It was still nerve wracking, but it was no longer quite as scary. 

 

“That’s starting to itch,” he said after another minute, and Loki moved his hand away. 

 

“Thank you,” Loki said, gently nuzzling against Tony’s neck.

 

Tony blinked. He couldn’t imagine what Loki was thanking him for. “For what?”

 

He felt Loki smile, but the god didn’t answer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for some SpideyPool goodness! If MCU!Peter/Wade isn't your cup of tea, this chapter is super skippable, and I won't be offended in the least. 
> 
> If you're on the fence, Peter is 18 and Wade is 28, here. And I don't condone age differences like that IRL. But, you know, fiction.
> 
> And uh, while I have an audience...
> 
> CW: drug use. Not at all an accurate representation of drug addiction. I do not condone the use of illegal substances, and this work should not be seen as me supporting their usage.
> 
> ((The rest of this note is a Drug Addiction PSA, feel free to skip))
> 
>  <soapbox>
> 
> So, this chapter discusses the use of illegal drugs as a form of pain management. Aside from my general statement of "don't do drugs that weren't prescribed to you, and only use them as they were prescribed", I'd like to take a quick moment to talk about drug addiction IRL, specifically here in the US.
> 
> There's a very common misconception that most drug addicts fell into drugs because they, "wanted to have a good time" or otherwise made some sort of a poor life decision that somehow makes their addiction entirely the fault of "being dumb", or what have you. I'm not going to say that there aren't any people out there who decide to give Meth/crack/dope/acid/etc a go just for funsies. And that's probably more likely with certain substances than others.
> 
> But what we don't talk about is the much more prevalent issue, particularly with Opioids. Self-medication. You have someone who's been injured, or is otherwise dealing with chronic pain. Their doctor prescribes them with a pain medication. Eventually, this medication stops being enough to help them cope. Or, alternatively, the doctor or their insurance will no longer write/cover their prescription, despite their continued need/dependence. So, what's a person to do? Well, some people turn to illegal means to get the medication they need to help deal with the pain. 
> 
> It's a bad situation, all around. I don't believe there's a magic solution. But I do think we need to stop demonizing all drug addicts without taking a long hard look at the causes of said addiction. A lot of substance abuse stems from self-medication in some form or another. 
> 
>  </soapbox>
> 
> And now back to your regularly scheduled fic.

_ Kom drink met my / Come drink with me _

_ Daar is so veel om oor to praat / There is so much to talk about _

_ Kom Saam Met My / Come with me _

_ Ons wil dit alles beter maak / We want to make it all better _

\--Seether _ , Kom Saam Met  _

  
  


As they returned to their apartment, Deadpool was now only letting out the occasional giggle. The moment they stepped out of the elevator, Deadpool grabbed Peter’s shoulders and tried to pull him in for the kiss. The overpowering smell of blood sent Peter’s senses screaming.

 

“Nope. No. Shower.” He ordered.

 

Deadpool pouted, then looked up as an idea caught him. “You gonna shower with me, baby boy?” He purred, shit-eating grin visible even through the mask.

 

“Shower,” Peter insisted, giving him a shove.

 

Deadpool whined but left without any further argument. Peter dropped onto the couch and pulled off his mask. He felt sick. He’d known Deadpool had violent tendencies. Everyone knew--it was literally what his reputation was built on. But still, seeing him actually killing that many people and  _ laughing _ ? He loved Wade, more than anything, but seeing that… Peter scrubbed at his face and stood. He waited until he was sure he heard the shower running before changing out of his suit.

 

By the time Deadpool was back it was clear that the endorphins were starting to wear off. He looked tired, and his arm looked weird. There was no other word for it. It looked as if someone had attached an infant’s forearm to his elbow. He slowly came to stand in front of Peter, clad only in sweatpants.

 

“Hey, Petey, hypothetical question: how do you feel about heroin?”

 

Peter blinked. Out of literally anything he thought Wade might have asked, that wasn’t on the list. “I, um… what?” He managed.  _ Real smooth _ .

 

“This,” Wade wiggled the baby hand. “Hurts like a cock-goblin. I have some back at my place that I usually use, but I feel like that might be… not cool?”

 

Peter knew he was gaping, but he couldn’t figure out what to say. He didn’t like the idea of Wade hurting--and God knows it looked like it hurt--but he still wasn’t keen on the use of illegal drugs.

 

“Yeah, I didn’t figure,” Wade said, when Peter didn’t answer. “I’ll survive.” He plopped down on the couch next to him.

 

Peter was quiet for a moment, drumming up the nerve before saying, “Can we talk? About Valhalla?”

 

Wade tensed next to him, he could feel it in the larger man’s muscles against his leg. In sharp contrast to his body, when Wade spoke his voice was its normal happy tone, “Sure, baby boy, what’s up?”

 

Peter opened his mouth and promptly realized he didn’t know what he wanted to say. “That… That was a lot.”

 

Wade was quiet. He wasn’t looking at Peter, and except for the occasional twinge of pain that crossed his face, he was completely still. In the silence Peter could hear his heart racing.

 

“Wade?” He asked.

 

“Yeah, sorry. I’m good. Look, I can go if you need. I mean, I’m sure you want to get cleaned up and stuff.”

 

“What? Wade, no, I don’t want you to leave. I just want to talk.” Peter frowned. Wade hadn’t expressed any worry that Peter would want him to leave in a while. 

 

Wade still wasn’t looking at him. Peter shifted and straddled Wade’s lap. When he still resolutely refused to look at him, Peter grabbed Wade’s chin and pulled it up. “Wade, I’m not asking you to leave. I love you. I want you here. I just need to talk to you about this, and I need you to talk to me.”

 

It was a long moment before Wade nodded. “Ok,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

 

“Is that… If that’s something you  _ need _ , the killing…” Peter tapered off. If it  _ was _ something he needed, what exactly could they really do?

 

“I don’t need it. And I know you don’t like it. But that wasn’t  _ really _ killing. They’ll be back tomorrow, Loki said so.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anyway, I warned you that I’m fucked up. I’m not a good person, Peter.”

 

“You  _ are _ a good person,” Peter insisted.

 

“I’ve killed hundreds of people, Peter. People who  _ really _ died,” he said, looking away again.

 

Peter sighed, “True. But that doesn’t make you a bad person.”

 

“I  _ like _ it. I like making people suffer, and making sure they get what they deserve.”

 

His stomach flipped at the admission. “Why do you like it?” He asked, not entirely sure he was going to like the reply.

 

“The world is fucked up enough without certain people in it.”

 

“There are other ways to do that, though. The cops can--”

 

“That’s too good for some people, Peter,” Wade said quietly.

 

Peter was vividly reminded of the job Wade had taken him on. The man’s laughter as Deadpool had threatened him. In that moment he couldn’t find a way to disagree with what Wade said. He had  _ enjoyed _ punching that man--breaking his ribs. He had deserved that and more. If Deadpool had just kept going, Peter honestly wasn’t sure if he’d have tried to stop him from killing him. The legal system had completely failed in its job to protect that little girl. It made him sick. And, deep in the back of his mind, it made him wonder how many of the people he’d turned over to the police over the years had simply walked free. How many of those “petty criminals” had moved on to murder.

 

He dropped his forehead down to rest against Wade’s. “I love you. I can’t honestly say I  _ like _ the killing, but I kind of understand. Sometimes it’s needed,” Peter admitted quietly.

 

“I love you, too,” Wade replied. “Fuck, I really hope I don’t go out in a fight somehow.”

 

“Yeah?” Peter asked, surprised by the change in subject, but also not understanding what Wade meant.

 

“I can’t imagine dying and still being stuck in the the same loop of death and regeneration for all eternity.”

 

Oh, they had circled back around to Valhalla. He nodded and dropped his lips to Wade’s. Wade leaned up, his hand sinking into Peter’s hair as he pulled him closer. Peter tried to never think about Wade’s cancer. About how it was still there. Wade even called himself “cured” sometimes. Peter preferred to think of it that way, rather than that the cancer was still there, just unable to get a foot hold because of his healing factor.

 

When they broke apart, Peter spoke again, very ready to find a happier topic. “I can’t believe Loki has kids.”

 

Wade’s smile was brief. “Yeah. I’m not too sure about Hel, though.”

 

“What? Why?” Peter asked, surprised.

 

He shrugged, “I don’t know. She just…” he waved his hand absently, as if that would help explain his feelings.

 

“But you like Fenrir?” Then, remembering, “Who is  _ not _ going to bite anything off of you. Especially not your head!” Peter said firmly.

 

Wade huffed, “Sure, alright.” Peter got the impression his concern was being blown off.

 

“Speaking of, how’s your arm feeling?”

 

“Still fucking hurts,” They both glanced down at his arm. It was slightly larger now, but still nowhere near it’s correct size.

 

Without thinking, Peter reached down and stroked it. Unlike the rest of Wade’s skin, it was smooth and unmarred by his forced mutation. The bones felt more like cartilage against his hand. He had the sudden urge to ask Tony if he could borrow his lab and run some scans and tests on the arm. But no. Certainly not right then.

 

“Maybe I could help distract you for a bit?” Peter offered, grinding his hips down against Wade’s.

 

Wade’s breath caught. “While that sounds fucking amazing, you don’t need to do that--” But Peter as already standing, pulling Wade up by his good hand. Once in the bedroom he pushed Wade back against the wall. Wade let out a soft whine and Peter grinned before dropping to his knees.

 

“Holy shit, baby boy,” Wade groaned.

 

Through his pants Peter could already see his dick starting to take notice, even through the pain. Peter leaned forward and kissed the head of Wade’s dick through his sweatpants. Wade humped forward with a keening whine.

 

Peter reached up and slid Wade’s sweatpants down to his ankles. Wade’s cock sprung away from his body, still filling from the sudden change in their evening. Wade’s hips jerked forward again, so Peter grabbed ahold of him and pinned him to the wall. Wade tested Peter’s grip, trying to move, then moaned loudly when Peter’s hand held him firm.

 

He waited until Wade fell still again before kitten licking the tip of his dick. Wade moaned again, and it took both of Peter’s hands to keep his hips back against the wall. He continued lick, pausing for him to still, then licking again.

 

Peter teased him for a long time, trying to keep his attention off of his arm for as long as possible, but as Wade started begging it became increasingly difficult to remember why he was waiting.

 

Experimentally he took the head of Wade’s dick into his mouth. His hands were now having to hold Wade’s hips hard enough he was sure there would be bruising, but Wade didn’t seem to care. He swirled his tongue around the head and tried to gauge Wade’s reaction to different things, but everything he did was eliciting a steady stream of swearing and praise from the man.

 

Carefully, he took more of Wade’s cock in his mouth. He’d watched enough porn to at least have the right idea of what he was trying to do, but he had no clue how he could fit even half of Wade into his mouth. Wade’s hips were now constantly stuttering against his hands, trying to get some movement, but Peter kept them still. He worked as much of Wade into his mouth as he could before drawing back out until the tip rested against his lips, then drawing him back in again.

 

Wade continued to spew incoherent encouragement as he picked up the pace. Peter tried to relax his throat as much as he could, and then pulled Wade in, pleased when he managed to get most of his cock into his mouth. If the sudden increase in volume of Wade’s “Fuck, fuck, baby boy, shit, don’t stop,” was any indication, he approved too.

 

Peter picked up speed, his eyes locked up on Wade’s face, intent on watching him. Wade was watching him, too, and every time their eyes locked Wade let a low rumbling moan escape his lips.

 

He was starting to try out using his tongue and bobbing his head when Wade’s hand scrabbled at the top of his head. “Baby boy, gonna… Wait.” He said, his fingers knotting into Peter’s hair. He pulled off enough to look at Wade and smile then returned to sucking with renewed vigor.

 

It took only seconds for Wade to moan, coming in Peter’s mouth. He wasn’t overly sure he liked the taste, but swallowed all the same. Wade’s breath came in deep huffs. Peter released his hips which indeed had dark bruises from where he’d been holding him against the wall. He kissed the marks before standing.

 

“Sorry for the bruises,” he said quietly, suddenly feeling embarrassed. 

 

Wade’s lips crashed into his, tongue invading his mouth. Now that his hips were free he ground them against Peter as they kissed. “So fucking hot,” Wade moaned into his mouth.

 

Wade finally broke the kiss and pressed their foreheads together. “I love you, baby boy. I’m sorry if I freaked you out earlier.”

 

Peter caught his lips again before answering. “It was a lot, seeing you like that, but nothing has changed, ok? I still love you, and you mean everything to me. Promise you won’t volunteer to leave again?”

 

“I promise to try, ok?” Wade said with a huff. “I’m still not used to this long-term thing.”

 

Peter kissed him again, “Deal.”

 

After a moment, Peter gathered Wade’s baby hand back in his own. “So, um… if this happens again--”

 

“When. When it happens again.”

 

“Ok,  _ when _ it happens again.” Peter frowned at how certain Wade sounded about that. “Can I like…”

 

Wade was looking at him curiously, waiting for him to figure out what he wanted to say.

 

“Can I study it?”

 

“Study it?” Wade echoed flatly.

 

Peter shifted uncomfortably, letting Wade’s hand drop, and moved to sit on the bed. He hoped he wasn’t overstepping his bounds. “Like, maybe take some x-rays and stuff? Or maybe a CT scan?” He asked slowly.

 

Wade looked down at the regrowing limb, slowly flexing the forming joints. “I, um,” he started. He looked tense.

 

“We don’t have to. I’m sorry, it’s stupid.”

 

“It’s not stupid. You’re curious, I get it.” Wade said, still staring at his hand as he made his way over to the bed. “I just really don’t like that kind of stuff,” He admitted. “Medical stuff, I mean. Scans and blood tests and--” He took a slow breath.

 

Peter’s eyes widened, realization setting in. “Shit, Wade. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think.” Of course Wade would be uncomfortable with medical things--or even just things that could remind him of medical treatments. How many scans and tests had he had to endure when they first discovered his cancer? And who knew what all Weapon X did to him?

 

Wade didn’t reply, but he did seem to be grimacing in pain more often. So much for being a good boyfriend and distracting him.  _ Great job, Parker _ .

 

“Does the heroin actually help?” He asked after a moment.

 

“What?”

 

“I mean… does it actually help with the pain, or do you just not care anymore?” Peter still didn’t like the idea, but with the knowledge that Wade was so intensely uncomfortable with medical treatments, it was no wonder he’d turned to street drugs.

 

Bright blue eyes stared at him in confusion. “It helps,” he said. “One of the few things that does, honestly.”

 

“Where’d you keep it stashed in your apartment?”

 

“What? Why?”

 

Peter stood up and grabbed his web shooters from the dresser. “Because I’m faster than you, and I want you to feel better.”

 

Wade, looking dazed, explained that there was a loose floorboard in the closet. 

 

“Alright, cool, I’ll be back in a jiffy,” Peter said with a grin as he pulled his suit back on.

 

* * *

 

The loose floorboard wasn’t hard to find. He pulled it up and set it aside, expecting… well, he wasn’t sure what he expected to see. A sack of white powder, maybe? What the hell did heroin even look like? Under the floorboard he found a wooden box that looked like it was made from particle board.

 

He opened it to find a small bag of sand-colored powder, and what he realized was a glass pipe after a moment of staring at it,

 

After he set the box to the side he noticed a folded piece of paper stashed in the dusty corner of the hole. And he was curious by nature, so sue him. He reached down and gingerly unfolded the paper. He was looking at a photograph, and it took a solid 15 seconds before he recognized what he was seeing. A man looked back at him, and he could only be a couple of years older than Peter was now. His light brown hair was cropped short, and he could see his right eyebrow was segmented by what looked like a scar. The man was wearing a RENT t-shirt and a goofy smile, and had the same striking blue eyes Peter had been looking into not twenty minutes earlier. 

 

It was a picture of Wade. Pre-Weapon X. Possibly pre-cancer. He looked more happy-go-lucky and content than Peter had ever seen him. Sure, Wade was constantly smiling and joking, but… it was never quite like this. There was a lightness to his expression--to the way he held himself--that didn’t seem to exist anymore. 

 

Peter briefly considered shoving the photograph into his pocket, but he remembered how upset Wade had been when he thought Weasel was going to show him a picture like this. Instead he carefully refolded it and returned it to the same dusty corner. Wade wanted to forget it existed. The least Peter could do was respect that.

 

He grabbed the box and carefully stayed to the shadows and less populated areas as he swung back home. The last thing he needed was for Spider-Man to be found in possession of heroin.

 

“I can't believe you did that,” Wade said as he handed over the box.

 

Peter shrugged, trying not to compare the man he saw in front of him with the photograph he'd stumbled across. “You metabolize stuff about like I do, right? It's not like we can just run down to the drug store and grab some Tylenol or something.” He glanced down at the box. “There are probably some safer options, though. I don't know--and I don't want to know--how you get this, but aren't there risks of people like… mixing bad stuff in with the drugs?”

 

“Worse than the heroin?” Wade said with a smirk.

 

“Especially if they knew it was  _ you _ they were selling to? Most people don't know they can't kill you, and they could still really hurt you by trying.”

 

“Would you rather I rob a hospital?” Wade asked. 

 

“No!”

 

“I mean, guess I could go after the wholesaler itself, that would probably be more efficient.”

 

“Wade.”

 

Wade was smiling, but it didn't reach his eyes. “I'm not going to steal drugs, Pete.”

 

“I'm gonna try to think of an alternative, though, OK?” 

 

He paused, an idea coming to him. “I bet Shuri might know something.”

 

“Shuri?”

 

Peter grinned. “She's the Princess of Wakanda.”

 

Wade frowned, “You're friends with a princess?”

 

“Acquaintanced. And she sort of owes me a favor.”

 

His boyfriend looked positively mystified, which was definitely Peter's goal. “Sort of?” He echoed.

 

“She'll owe me a favor when I agree to let her study my ability to stick to things. She sends me a message every couple of weeks.”

 

“Is that a good idea?” Wade asked, sounding tense.

 

“The only reason I hadn't agreed yet is because I've been kind of busy. If I can also use this as an opportunity to help you out, then it's a win-win, right?”

 

“Right,” but Wade didn't look completely convinced.

 

Peter sat down on the bed, “So, how does this work?” He asked, gesturing to the box.

 

Wade's eyes went wide, “What?” He asked sharply.

 

He held a hand up to stop him, “I don't want-- I'm not asking you to share. But almost all of my drug education has been, “don't do them.” So, I'm kind of curious.”

 

Wade stared at him for a long moment before finally saying, “I am in no way encouraging this for you.”

 

“Got it.”

 

“And May can never find out, because if anyone could figure out how to kill me, I bet it would be her.”

 

Peter gave him a horrified look, “Why would I  _ ever _ \--Jesus Christ. Yeah, no, that's not an issue.”

 

Wade fixed him with one more long hard look. “Fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uuuh, hopefully chapter 3 will be done tomorrow. It's a lot less close to finished than I'd expected to it to be at this point. Whoops. And I wound up adding another 1000 words to this chapter today. Cross your fingers, y'all!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unofficially called "Hel and Fen's Excellent Adventure".
> 
> Sorry this took several days longer than planned. OTL For some reason I just really struggled with what I wanted to have happen. OOPS.
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys the world-building here!

Kom Saam Met My / Come with me

Ons wil dit alles beter maak / We want to make it all better

Jy kan hier bly / You can stay here

Sodra jy alles gaan beleef / As long as you will experience everything

\--Seether _, Kom Saam Met My_

  


Even as night fell and the city quieted down, the activity never truly ceased. There were still people around, music played, food was cooked, and the city felt _alive_ , as if it were a living breathing creature, rather than just somewhere for people to live. Hel _loved_ it. It was with unrepentant joy that she and Fenrir traversed the streets, letting the sights and sounds of humanity drift over them.

 

As the moon reached the apex of its arc across the sky, Hel leaned over the railing and watched as Fenrir let out a massive howl as he raced across the beach. An ever growing pack of dogs raced at his heels, howling and barking along with him, following his lead as they kicked up sand behind them.

 

“I wish I could show Faðir,” she murmured to herself.

 

“I can assist with that, if you would like.”

 

Hel jumped as the phone in her hand spoke. She recognized the voice as the one that had spoken in Faðir’s home. “JARVIS?” She asked.

 

“Yes, Ma’am. I believe Mr. Stark let you know that I was integrated into this phone?”

 

She blinked. “Yes, he did. I suppose I didn’t understand what he meant,” she nervously tucked some stray hair behind her ear. “You said you can help me show Faðir?”

 

JARVIS lead her through the buttons and prompts on the screen, until Hel was able to hold up the phone to take a digital photograph of her brother and his impromptu pack.

 

“Fenfen! Come look!” She called out.

 

Fenrir whined but did as she requested. “What?” He asked, panting as he caught his breath. The dogs crowded around them.

 

“I was able to capture the sight of you and your hounds, look!” She turned the screen to face him.

 

Fenrir blinked at the phone’s screen before looking back up at her. “Ok, and?”

 

Hel huffed, “And this is amazing! JARVIS, can I take a picture of myself as well?” A quick study, JARVIS walked her through creating what he told her was called a “Selfie”. “Isn’t Midgardian technology incredible, Fen?”

 

Fenrir looked largely unimpressed. “Sure?” He shrugged.

 

She sighed, “Fine, go back to your game.” She leaned back against the railing and Fenrir and the dogs immediately set back off, running just out of reach of the waves.

 

At least he was having fun, she mused. Perhaps she would want to run as he did if she’d been chained to a rock for hundreds of years.

 

Eventually Fenrir tired himself out, and he trudged back to where she rested, collapsing onto his back in the sand. Moments later the dogs joined in, piling on top of him. Hel was quick to capture an image of that, as well.

 

“Their guardians are probably worried about them,” Hel said, referencing the dogs.

 

“Don’t have any,” Fenrir replied. “They’re free spirits, or something like that.”

 

Hel hopped over the rail and sat down in the sand, running her hands lightly over the two closest dogs, mindful of her frozen skin. “Are they happy?”

 

Fenrir shrugged. “They have each other.” He opened his eyes to look over at her. “I’m not interrogating them for you, Hel.”

 

“Sorry,” she said quietly.

 

“Forget it. I already have.”

 

“No, I mean…” Hel pulled her legs to her chest. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

 

“Trying to forget about that, too.”

 

“Fen!”

 

“Hel. It’s done. You were trapped, too. When you were free, you came and got me. That’s all there is to it.”

 

She let it drop, knowing well enough that she wasn’t going to win that argument. “We need to find Jǫr, too.”

 

Fenrir’s dark eyes had closed again, “Any idea where he is?”

 

“No,” she admitted. “Faðir might.”

 

“Or Thor?” Fenrir suggested.

 

Her hand stilled, and her eye narrowed. “Thor,” she growled. “May the path to Valhalla never open to him.”

 

That got Fenrir’s attention, and he pushed himself up until he sitting as well. “What?” He asked, bewildered.

 

“Before we came to the Gjǫll, Faðir requested his aid. He refused us any assistance if it meant freeing you.” She brought her hands to her lap, lest she accidently hurt one of the animals near her. “I believe he means to fight Váli. Kill him, if need be.”

 

Fenrir growled, his agitation setting off the dogs around them. “Then fuck Thor,” he said. “He and The AllFather can both be trapped in the Mists of Niflheim.”

 

Hel grinned, she couldn’t help it. “The AllFather _is_ ,” she confided.

 

“Is what?”

 

“Confined to the Mists of Niflheim. He begged and pleaded at my gates, requesting sanctuary from the cold.”

 

Fenrir barked a laugh, “And you shut the door in his face?”

 

“Essentially.”

 

His laughter turned to a howl, and a dozen wagging tails and yips joined in. “It’s only a shame someone else got to him before I could.”

 

“Illness and age,” Hel explained. “There was no great battle, no crafty foe. Just _time_.”

 

Fenrir hummed. “Nearly as good as getting to rip him apart myself, I guess.” After another moment, Fenrir gained his feet. “You done resting? Let’s go!”

 

Hel laughed and followed after him, noting as they walked that at least two more too-thin dogs joined their ranks. “I can’t believe Faðir’s a Giant,” Hel said thoughtfully, examining the raised markings on her hands. “And a Jötunn at that.” She smiled to herself, “So much about me finally makes sense.”

 

“Hmm, does it, though?” Fenrir asked, smirking back at her.

 

“Hush.”

 

“ _I_ can’t believe he’s chosen a human for a bedmate.”

 

“You don’t like Tony?” She asked.

 

“Eeeeh. I don’t know him,” Fenrir admitted. “But, I mean… he’s human.”

 

Hel blinked as snow began to fall. “Well, obviously Faðir thinks he’s special.”

 

“Because he’s always shown great judgement?”

 

She reached out and smacked her brother on the shoulder. “Quiet.”

 

“What? It’s true! You know I love him, but you can’t deny that if he made better choices, Narfi wouldn’t--”

 

“Still your tongue,” she hissed, pitching her voice low enough that any passing humans wouldn’t overhear them. “Don’t you _dare_ blame him for what happened.”

 

Fenrir turned, his stance wide, standing his ground. “I don’t,” he insisted. “I’m just… so fucking _angry_ ,” he grit out. “I have to blame someone.”

 

“Then blame Odin.”

 

“He’s already dead! I can’t seek vengeance from a dead man!” Tears sprang to the corners of his eyes.

 

“Oh, Fen,” Hel’s expression softened as she stepped close to him, pulling him into a hug. She expected Fenrir to pull away, to growl, or snap, or rage. Instead his arms wrapped around her, and he clung on. The sheer heat of his body was overwhelming but Hel would never think of pulling away when he needed her.

 

“What did you mean,” he finally whispered, “when you said Narfi wasn’t in Niflheim?”

 

“That he’s not there. I searched, every day, for ages and ages. But he’s not there.”

 

Fenrir pulled back. “Then where is he? Midgard? Vanaheim? Muspelheim?”

 

“Why would he be in… I don’t know. If I knew, I’d be seeking him out.”

 

“Well, is there anyone else?”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Any other missing dead?”

 

“Why would I know that? I don’t have a running tally of everyone who’s ever died, Fen.”

 

“Don’t you?”

 

“No! I know those who’ve come to me seeking asylum in Niflheim. If someone never appeared there, I always assumed that meant they were granted entry to Valhalla.”

 

He let out a frustrated growl and kicked at a stone by his feet. This startled several of the dogs, and he knelt down, giving them apologetic pets.

 

Fenrir stayed on edge as they continued their exploration of the city. So late at night, many of the buildings were closed, but that didn’t mean there weren’t things to see. The architecture from one building to the next could be vastly different looking--as though they should be placed in different countries, rather than side by side in the same city.

 

As the sun began to rise, they came across a grand swath of plant-life. Grass and trees grew in such abundance that it made Hel realize how lacking the rest of the city had been. Fenrir gave a great whoop before he and his ever-growing pack of dogs raced out across the grass, dodging trees, and easily leaping over the walkways. Even here, nature was carefully controlled, not a leaf out of place.

 

“They’ve domesticated the forest,” she mused. She glanced up as Fenrir misjudged a step and fell into a pond, the thin layer of ice that had formed overnight shattering under him, laughing all the while.

 

“Don’t you even think about it,” She growled as Fenrir jogged back towards her, dripping wet.

 

He flashed her a quick grin before shaking his body, sending stray drops of water everywhere.

 

“Norns, damn you!” She shoved against his shoulder. “You’ll catch a chill, like that.”

 

He rolled his eyes, “I’ll be fine. A bit of cold never hurt anyone. Look, the sun’s come up and everything.” But, seeing her concern, in the next moment he was dry again. “What about you?”

 

“I’m not like to catch a chill.”

 

He scoffed. “I know. It’s warm for you, though, isn’t it?”

 

It was, in fact, quite warm by her standards. She had never known temperatures could agree with her so well until she had been banished to Niflheim. “It’s tolerable,” she said, rather than admit that any part of her missed her prison.

 

“So, how did you get out of Niflheim?” Fenrir asked once they had reached the other side of the false woods, and the sun was shining down properly on them. “Was Faðir able to free you?”

 

“No. It was Váli, actually.” He tilted his head in confusion, so she continued. “He summoned forth my cockerel to Midgard, and in doing so, shattered whatever spell The AllFather had laid upon Niflheim that kept me bound there.”

 

Fenrir whistled, “He’s gotten strong, then.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“We may have to actually _fight_ him.”

 

She pursed her lips. “It’s certainly a possibility. I hope it won’t come to that, though.”

 

“I…” he paused, “Is it bad that I hope it does?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I don’t mean that I want to injure him or anything,” Fenrir explained. “But if he’s powerful enough that he’s redirecting The AllFather’s curse? Can you honestly say you don’t want to test your might against someone like that?” He quirked an eyebrow.

 

“Not when it’s my youngest brother, no. Not when the goal is to _help him_.”

 

“Right, of course. But, what about _after_?”

 

“After?”

 

“Let’s assume this goes well. We break the curse and we get our baby brother back, right?”

 

She frowned, not liking his phrasing, “Alright.”

 

“Wouldn’t you like to spar with him afterwards? Nothing life or death, just… fighting for the thrill of it, to see who’s stronger?”

 

Hel hummed as she considered the prospect. “Unnecessary,” she decided. “We all already know that I’m the strongest.”

 

Fenrir huffed. “Excuse you? You are _not_.”

 

She smirked, “Of course I am. I’m the oldest--the most experienced. I have unparalleled control over ice, and I’m quite capable with fire and teleportation spells, as well.”

 

“Maybe so. But I don’t need all that fancy magic. What are you without your spells?”

 

Hel took a few steps back, mirroring Fenrir as he tried to circle her, leading them into an alley, away from human eyes. “Still strong enough to best you, pup.” She was sure she was reflecting Fenrir’s feral grin right back at him. She knew Fenrir was faster than her, but he wasn’t used to this bipedal form, and it kept him off balance. When was the last time he would have thrown a punch? It had to have been a while, given how horribly he was broadcasting every move he made.

 

She sidestepped and dropped to the ground, sweeping his legs out from under him. “I warned you,” she laughed. Norns she’d missed this. Trading blows without any heat behind them, with no intent to harm or kill. Honestly, she hadn’t expected Fenrir to just _lunge_ at her, knocking them both to the hard ground. Their shared peals of laughter as they wrestled for dominance were interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing near the mouth of the alleyway.

 

They stilled, tense, and listened to the conversation of the interloper.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Head’s up, Steve’s pissed.” Fenrir whispered beside her. It took Hel a moment to understand that, with his superior hearing, he was relaying what was being said.

 

“About what?”

 

“Well, JARVIS alerted us that you’re out of the Tower alone. I _thought_ we were past this, but…”

 

_JARVIS? Out of the Tower? Faðir!_

 

“Someone else is talking,” Fenrir whispered, “I can’t make it out.”

 

“Because it’s stupid. There’s no reason--”

 

“You’re not serious.” Faðir interrupted him.

 

“‘Fraid so, Pal.”

 

“Well, tell him JARVIS is with me, then.” He raised his eyebrow as he caught sight of them. Hel smiled up at him from where she was pinned to the ground by Fenrir. He looked as he had the morning before--if not at all how she remembered his appearance from her childhood. Except instead of his armor and leathers, he was dressed in a long black coat with a dark red tunic underneath.

 

“JARVIS is with him,” Fenrir continued transcribing.

 

Even Hel could hear the reply of, “JARVIS doesn’t count!”

 

The first man spoke again, “He says JARVIS doesn’t count.”

 

Faðir rolled his eyes. “Then you tell him I’m not _“unaccompanied_ ” any longer.”

 

“Who’s with you?”

 

“My children.”

 

For the first time Hel properly heard the first man’s voice as he cried out, “What?” He sounded excited. A good sort of excited, she hoped.

 

Fenrir and Faðir both frowned. “There’s a weird noise,” Fenrir told her. “Maybe they’re talking? I can’t--”

 

“Bucky?” Faðir asked, sounding concerned.

 

“A second man,” Fenrir explained, “You have children?”

 

“Oh,” Faðir replied, sounding disappointed. “Hello, Captain,” he said curtly.

 

“Does Tony know?”

 

“Of course Stark _knows_ , he’s met them.” Hel could see the shift. Before his annoyance had held a sort of levity to it, but how he sounded nearly angry.

 

“Then why the hell isn’t he with you?”

 

Faðir growled, and Hel wondered if the man on the phone could even hear it. “He’s not my keeper, Steve.”

 

There was silence from the phone for several seconds. “Ok, fine, look. Why don’t you and your kids just come and hang out at the Tower, then?” Fenrir tensed above her, obviously not fond of the idea of being _trapped_ , of being told where he had to be.

 

Judging from his expression, Faðir was no less happy about the suggestion. His eyes narrowed, “Because fuck you, that’s why.” He said, before sliding the phone into the pocket of his coat. He looked back down at them. “Didn’t I tell you two to stay out of trouble?” He asked. He was smiling and the frustration was entirely gone from his voice.

 

Fenrir jumped to his feet before helping Hel stand as well. “No, you told us to be careful. We’ve been very careful.”

 

“The pack of stray dogs? And the two of you brawling like school-children? That’s you being careful?”

 

“Dogs like me,” Fenrir said as he ran his fingers between the ears of one the larger animals that stood near them.

 

“And we weren’t brawling,” Hel insisted. “We were playing.”

 

“Playing?”

 

She hesitated before admitting, “Fenrir insisted he would win in a fight if I didn’t have my magic. Naturally I had to be sure he knew he was wrong.”

 

Faðir laughed, muttering, “Ridiculous,” a warm smile on his face. It felt like home. “Aside from fighting in a back-alley, what have you two been doing all night?”

 

“It’s day, now,” Fenrir pointed out, cheekily. “But we have walked _everywhere_ ,” he all but sang. “It’s been wonderful.”

 

“Have you been walking around the city dressed like that?”

 

“You saw us before we left,” Hel noted.

 

Faðir looked taken aback. “Not the best choices for the end of Autumn.” With a flick of his hand a dark blue jacket appeared on Fenrir. Hel frowned at the heavy black cloak that fell around her shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he sounded sincere. “But it is best to try to stay inconspicuous in this city.”

 

She didn’t like the idea of having to stay hidden, and she couldn’t say she really understood it, either. But she trusted Faðir enough not to doubt him. Tony had suggested that seeing their true forms might cause the humans to panic, after all.

 

Fenrir wore a strange expression, but when she turned to question him, he just shook his head. “So, Faðir. You look different.” He shoved his hands into his coat as they exited the alley.

 

“Well, yes,” he replied easily, “After I had the chance to rest, I was able to reset my glamour--”

 

“No,” Fenrir interrupted, “I mean…” he gestured vaguely. “Since when do you have black hair?”

 

“Ah,” Faðir said slowly. “Shortly after I lost all of you,” he stopped, as though talking about it was still difficult. Perhaps it was. “I couldn’t stand to look at myself,” he admitted. He opened his mouth to continue, but halted when a beeping sound came from his pocket. He retrieved his phone.

 

“What’s wrong?” Hel asked as Faðir’s face became pensive.

 

“Nothing’s wrong.” He looked between the two of them. “The men on the phone that I was talking to. They’d like to meet you.”

 

“More friends of yours?” Hel asked.

 

Faðir took several moments as he considered his answer, which didn’t fill Hel with confidence. “One of them is.”

 

Fenrir crossed his arms, his stance defensive. “Is it because of what Steve was saying?” Faðir looked slightly surprised that Fenrir had been paying attention to their names. “He was upset because you were out here alone?”

 

“I believe Bucky legitimately just wants to meet you, with no ulterior motive.”

 

“But Steve? He, what? Wants to keep an eye on you?”

 

“It’s a possibility.” Faðir admitted.

 

The way Fenrir bared his teeth set her on edge. “Yeah, tell ‘em to come. That cool with you, Hel?”

 

Hel tried to give Fenrir a reproachful look, but wasn’t sure she succeeded. “I would like to meet your friend,” she offered.

 

He tapped on the phone for a moment, presumably returning the message. “Behave,” he said pointedly at Fenrir. His phone beeped again. “They want to meet in Central Park.”

 

“Where’s that?” Hel asked.

 

“It’s over that way,” Faðir pointed towards the north. “It’s a big area with lots of grass and trees--”

 

“Oh!” Fenrir perked up, “We were there last night. I fell in the pond!”

 

“How’d that happen?”

 

“He was leaping around like a fool and lost his footing.” Hel narrowed her eye at him, “And then he dried off by shaking water all over me.” She complained.

 

Faðir laughed, and any chastisement he might have leveled at Fenrir was rendered moot. Hel huffed and faced forward the rest of the way to Central Park.

 

After walking a way into the park, Fenrir's pack suddenly broke off, rushing ahead towards a fenced in area where a half-dozen other dogs were running around. Humans, presumably their owners, milled around the inside edges of the metal fence.

 

“What am I looking at?” Fenrir asked, tensing slightly. “Why are they caged in?”

 

“For their safety,” Faðir said soothingly. “It's called a dog park. A place for dogs to safely run around and socialize without having to worry about predators or other dangers.”

 

Her brother was frowning as he made his way over to the fence, watching the dogs run and play. They looked well-fed, with shining coats, free of dirt or mats.

 

It was only a few seconds before the dogs caught his scent and rushed over to him. With a grin he knelt down and did his best to get them all they the fence, speaking so softly that Hel couldn't catch the words.

 

“Pup!” Hel’s head snapped up as a man called after a brown dog that raced towards Fenrir, a lead trailing from its collar and dragging behind it. The dog collided with Fenrir's side, licking fractionally at his face. He let out a joyful shriek as the dog climbed up into his lap.

 

“Pup, no!” The man who'd called after the dog caught up with the dog. Hel caught a glint of silver as he reached for her lead and eased her away. “Shit, I'm so sorry,” he panted.

 

Fenrir was grinning as he climbed to his feet. “No worries.” He reached down and scratched at Pup’s ear, “Norns, she's fond of you.” His gaze shifted between the man and Pup.

 

“Fen!” Hel chastised.

 

“It's fine.” Faðir assured her as he strode past her to greet Pup as well. “Hello, love,” he crooned.

 

“Loki.” The man sounded surprised. He looked back to Fenrir. He held out the hand that wasn't holding Pup's lead out towards Fenrir.

 

“FenFen, shake!” She called out with a grin.

 

He took a second to glare at her before shaking the man's hand. “Fenrir Lokason.”

 

“Bucky Barnes.”

 

“Yeah,” Fenrir said, “I recognized your voice.”

 

Hel joined them. “Bucky. You're Faðir’s friend, then. I am Hel Lokadóttir.”

 

“Where's Steve, then?” Fenrir asked, eyes shifting around.

 

Bucky looked back and waved over a tall blonde haired man. “Hey,” he said as he joined the group.

 

When Bucky reached his hand out towards Hel, Faðir quickly reached out and grabbed her wrist to still her. “Sorry,” he said. “Bucky’s not great with cold.”

 

Suddenly Hel was grateful for the long cloak Faðir had given her. She jerked her hand away from his surprisingly warm one and wrapped the cloak tightly around her. “It’s good to meet you both,” she said, hoping her smile reached her eye.

 

She noticed that Fenrir’s easy smile from meeting Pup and Bucky had faded somewhat as he took in Steve. _“They smell weird,”_ he muttered, shedding the AllSpeak.

 

“I hope this isn’t rude or anything, but can I ask you a question, Fenrir?” Bucky spoke. Pup had glued herself to his side.

 

Fenrir’s eyes snapped away from Steve and back to Bucky. “Sure.”

 

“You said Pup’s fond of me?”

 

“She is, yeah. Thinks you’re the best thing in existence.”

 

Bucky grinned at the comment. “Is that-- How--” He paused. “Sorry,” he glanced between Faðir and Fenrir. “Are you a god, too?” He asked more quietly. Avoiding attention from the nearby humans?

 

Hel glanced around. Most of the dogs within the gate had gone back to their owners. Only one was still sitting by the fence, staring dopily up at Fenrir. Their pack of strays hadn’t gone far, either lying or sitting in the grass around them. But the humans around them didn’t seem to be paying them any mind.

 

Following Bucky’s lead, Fenrir lowered his voice as well. “Yeah. Hel, too.”

 

“What are you the god of?” Bucky asked.

 

Fenrir shrugged, “Wolves, mostly.”

 

Steve snorted. At Fenrir’s offended look, “Sorry. It’s just that this,” he gestured to the surroundings dogs. “Makes a lot more sense now.”

 

“Can you talk to dogs, then?” Bucky asked.

 

“Kind of?” Fenrir said after a moment. “It’s not really _talking_. I mean, they’ll understand things I say. But dogs don’t have language quite like we do.”

 

“So, how do you know that Pup likes me?”

 

“You don’t have to be a god of wolves to figure that out,” Hel said with a smile. Pup was now sitting politely at Bucky’s side, her whole body shaking from how hard her tail was wagging.

 

Fenrir nodded, “Yeah, their body language is instinctual for me. And I can get, uh… impressions, I guess? Like I said, it’s not language, so it’s hard to explain.”

 

Bucky just nodded before looking back at Hel, “What about you?”

 

“I don’t talk to animals.” Bucky and Steve both looked mildly confused. Fenrir rolled his eyes. Faðir smirked though. At least _someone_ understood her humor. “I don’t know what I’m a god of,” she explained, keeping him from trying to clarify the question.

 

Steve looked properly confused now. “You don’t know?” He asked. “Maybe I just don’t understand how the whole “god” thing works, but how do you not know?”

 

Hel shrugged, “Sometimes it’s obvious, sometimes it’s not,” she explained. “Odin called me the god of death. He was wrong.” She frowned slightly, finding herself wanting to give them a better answer. “I consider myself a guardian of the dead,” she explained. “Their protector.”

 

“Why would he call you that?” Bucky asked.

 

_“Can I show them?”_ She asked Faðir.

 

He hesitated, glancing over at Steve before, _“Sure, why not. Not here.”_

 

She rolled her eye at him. As if that hadn’t been obvious. “I can show you, if you’d like. Not here, though.” She repeated dutifully.

 

“Show us what, exactly?” Steve asked, looking apprehensive.

 

“You’re getting your wish, _Captain_ ,” there was a hint of mockery in the way he said the man’s title. “Let’s go back to The Tower.”

 

Hel noted that while Steve still looked apprehensive as they started walking, Bucky looked curious, and possibly a bit excited.

 

Fenrir quickly fell back until he was walking in step with Steve. “So. Why do you care if Faðir is out here alone?”

 

Hel glanced back at them. Steve looked uncomfortable with the question. “I don’t want to speak badly about your father.”

 

Faðir snorted, “Oh, Steve, don’t be so modest. Sure you do.”

 

Hel jumped as a voice spoke from Faðir’s pocket. “Loki, Sir?”

 

Faðir pulled the phone from his pocket. “Is everything alright, JARVIS?

 

“Everything is fine, Sir. Mr. Stark is requesting your assistance in the lab, if you’re available.”

 

“Um…” He glanced around at the group.

 

“It’s fine,” Hel assured him. “We know the way back.”

 

“Yeah, go help your bedmate.” Fenrir said with a smirk, “We’re just gonna trade embarrassing stories about you.”

 

Faðir gave him a quick exasperated look before disappearing.

 

“Soooo?” Fenrir looked expectantly at Steve.

 

“We can’t trust him to behave,” Steve said after a moment.

 

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Fenrir admitted. “What’d he do?

 

“He tried to enslave humanity,” Steve answered shortly.

 

That… didn’t sound like Faðir. “What?” Hel asked, confused.

 

“Steve. You know that’s not the whole story.” Bucky said.

 

“Yeah, well, he won’t tell anyone what the whole story is. Sure, he said someone forced him, but he killed hundreds of people, and it's not like we can _really_ take him at his word--”

 

Pup let out a whine at the same time as Fenrir and the stray dogs started growling.

 

“Fenrir! That’s enough. Calm.” Hel ordered.

 

Rather than make any attempt at calming down, Fenrir snarled and snapped at Hel before tearing off up the street, his dogs right behind him. Only Pup stayed behind, whining in obvious distress at seeing her human threatened.

 

Hel swore. “I understand that you had no way of knowing that Fenrir would react this way.” She took a breath. “But Norns damn you all the same.” She hissed. “Are either of you good in a fight?”

 

“Is there going to be a fight?” Steve asked.

 

“Do you believe I’d have asked if there weren’t?” _Mortals_ , she thought bitterly. Hel briefly considered contacting Faðir, but she immediately dismissed it. She had just promised that they would be fine. She could handle her little brother. Besides, Faðir’s companion needed him.

 

“We can fight,” Bucky assured her.

 

She paused. They couldn’t just leave Pup here. She swore again. “May I have her lead? I can get her home.” Bucky hesitated only a moment before handing it over. “Do you live at The Tower?”

 

“Yeah.” Bucky said.

 

“How far from the top floor?”

 

“Four down.”

 

She nodded. “Sorry about this, Pup.” It had been a long time since she’d used the Realm Between Realms to travel anywhere she’d never been. Thankfully Pup seemed to relax as soon as they were in what appeared to be a living room, so hopefully she was in the right place. “Be good. I’ll keep your humans safe, alright?” Pup only whined in reply.

 

“I hope you were being truthful,” she growled as she reappeared in front of the two men. “And I hope you’re faster than you appear,” she finished as she took off after Fenrir’s path. She wouldn’t admit it right then--maybe later--but she was impressed by how easily they kept up with her.

 

They ran for several miles before they started coming across some of the dogs from Fenrir’s pack. Uninjured--they stopped to be sure--but exhausted.

 

“Any idea where he’s going?” Steve asked.

 

“He’s not going anywhere,” Hel explained. “He’s angry, so he’s running.”

 

“Not a bad coping mechanism,” Bucky said.

 

“It never works,” she warned. “It never has, I doubt it’ll start today.”

 

“He _asked_.” Steve said, defensively.

 

“You called their dad a liar.” Bucky snapped.

 

“He _is_ a liar!”

 

Hel growled. Maybe she shouldn’t have tried to intervene.

 

“Damn it, Steve! Now? You think that _right now_ is the time for this argument?”

 

They heard a long, painfully loud howl followed by a cacophony of snarling and yelping. “FUCK!” Hel yelled. “Catch up!” She called back before taking a shortcut through the Realm Between Realms. The sound was too close to possibly misjudge where to exit.

 

She had expected to see Fenrir in his true form when she rematerialized. And there he was, in the middle of a busy street, easily towering over the vehicles trying to swerve around his massive legs. What she hadn’t expected to see was a second smaller wolf. Well, smaller when compared to Fenrir. It was still a great beast, far larger than any Midgardian wolf could ever grow to be. The fire licking up his body nearly blended into his red-orange coat.

 

“JARVIS,” she said quickly. “Can you send a picture to Faðir? And Tony? And… Whoever else needs to know?”

 

“Yes, ma’am, I can.”

 

As soon as it was done Hel dropped the phone and shed the magic disguising her true form. She needed all the concentration she could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Váli confrontation. Finally. :D  
> Up Later: Kinktober 2018! (I plan to still update FBiNS during Kinktober, but it'll be slower. All Kinktober prompts will be FrostIron and be canon adjacent to FBiNS. In that, it's the same version of Loki and Tony, but I don't know that anything in it will necessarily be canon, so much as "What If" type things. Much porn and feels to be had, I'm very excited. :)
> 
> Oh, and if anyone has noticed any plot threads or anything that I seem to have dropped, leave me a comment and let me know. I'll either let you know that, no, it hasn't been forgotten, or else I'll make a note to, you know... unforget it. :P
> 
> For the curious, here's a link to my tumblr post about my Kinktober 2018 plans:  
> [Haarii's FrostIron Kinktober 2018](https://haarii-the-writer.tumblr.com/post/177960094419/frostiron-kinktober-2018)

**Author's Note:**

> Gonna post chapter two tomorrow, and chapter three on Monday. Huzzah!
> 
> Tumblr: [@Wolfloner-Official](https://wolfloner-official.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter: [@Wolfloner1990](https://twitter.com/Wolfloner1990)  
> Discord: Wolfloner#9177  
> [Frostiron Discord Channel](https://discord.gg/UYDkNYe)  
> HMU if you wanna chat or w/e. :)


End file.
